hings had
really, I believe, prevented me minding it. Though, of course, every now
and then I had wished I might see again the little old-fashioned
fleur-de-lysed star which had been my mother's (my heart smote me for
not feeling sufficiently how much _she_ would have suffered at my losing
it). And I remembered how much I had liked to play with those opals of
the Queen of Hearts, which seemed the essence of pale-blue winter days
with a little red flame of sunset in the midst; or, rather, like tiny
lunar worlds, mysterious shining lakes and burning volcanoes in their
heart. Of course, I had not been indifferent: that would have taken away
all charm from the serenity with which I had enjoyed my loss. But I had
been serene, delightfully serene. And now!...

There was something vaguely vulgar, odious, unpardonable about false
stones. I had always maintained there was not, but the stage jewel
made me feel it. Mankind has sound instincts, rooting in untold depths
of fitness; and superfine persons, setting themselves against them,
reveal their superficiality, their lack of normal intuition and sound
judgment, while fancying themselves superior. And mankind (save among
barbarous Byzantine and Lombard kings, who encrusted their iron crowns
impartially with balas rubies, antique cameos, and bottle
glass)--mankind has always shown an instinct against sham jewels and
their wearers. It is an unreasoned manifestation of the belief in
truth as the supreme necessity for individuals and races, without
which, as we know, there would be an end of commerce, the
administration of justice, government, even family life (for birds,
who have no such sense, are proverbially ignorant of their father),
and everything which we call civilization. Real precious stones were
perhaps created by Nature, and sham stones allowed to be created by
man, as one of those moral symbols in which the universe abounds: a
mysterious object-lesson of the difference between truth and
falsehood.

Real diamonds and rubies, I believe, require quite a different degree
of heat to melt them than mere glass or paste; and you can amuse
yourself, if you like, by throwing them in the fire. In the Middle
Ages rubies, but only real ones, were sovereign remedies for various
diseases, among others the one which carried off Lorenzo the
Magnificent; and in the seventeenth century it was currently reported
that the minions of the Duke of Orleans had required pounded diamonds
to poi